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Too Easy
Too Easy is a story about the talented Toa Varkon, an assassin who is handed an assignment to eliminate one of the most notorious villains in the Matoran Universe. Story Prologue The Toa extinguished the flames he held in his hand, shaking off the embers that fell loosely between his fingers. He needed to remind himself that he shouldn’t tempt the fate of melting his own hand off with his rather impressive shows of power, but then again there were very few quick ways of actually breaching metal doors aside from explosives or those who controlled either metal or magnetism. Perhaps he should’ve recruited someone to help him-- No, he did jobs alone. Next time he would bring the explosives. The Toa slowly inserted his hand through the melted door, the overwise overwhelming heat barely warming his resistant armour as his fingers spread out to find a release for the door that was holding him back from his objective. His fingers brushed against something, and so he hastily grabbed toward it and tried pressing down. Nothing. Frantically he reached around again, finding what he assumed was a lever before he tugged on it. The bar fell down on his hand, the Toa reflexively pulling back in order to try break free, but the trap was nonetheless sprung. Nothing he could do at that time would save him. He really should have just brought the explosives. “You’ll have to forgive me for the rather unsavoury means by which I have contacted you, Toa Varkon.” A voice said. Varkon immediately whipped his head in the direction of the figure that stood casually by, arms folded with a mockingly sly expression. Varkon swore under his breath, trying desperately to reach for something he could draw on his target, but realised he only had his rifle with him… and no matter how much he flattered himself on being able to aim and fire with just one hand, that wasn’t going to happen. “Cut me out!” Varkon said, trying to heat his hand to break free… but forgot that he expended all that energy on getting through the door in the first place. He wrestled quietly for a bit, before giving up. He looked back at the being with furious eyes, “You really don’t want to play with fire, stranger…” “I thought I wouldn’t, but I’m liking my chances now.” The being responded, “I was told you’re quite the assassin, Toa Varkon… I heard that you killed hundreds--" “Millions!” Varkon corrected, “And it’s not Toa! Not anymore!” “Right,” the voice sneered, “I must have forgotten that… point is, I couldn’t just risk myself in some… ‘fight,’ with you. And it seems as if you only listen to widgets.” “You done gloating?” “I figure I’ve been polite, hothead. And besides, I’m offering you a deal.” “You locked my arm in a door!” “You did that to yourself.” Varkon blinked. “Look, you’re either ‘in’ or you are ‘out.’ I’m offering you a bounty. It’s your choice to accept or to decline it.” “Make it worth my while and we’ll talk!” “How does 100,000 widgets sound?” That immediately raised the attention of the rogue Toa of Fire, but if he was wise, he could possibly get more. “I was offered 50,000 widgets to take your head. What’s stopping me from doing that after I’m done with you little job?” “Little?” The being chuckled, “I guess you’re bad at listening… I brought you here. You’ll get your 50,000 widgets atop the 100,000 widgets I’m offering you. Fail to comply, and you’re not getting either cut. You understanding now?” “I understood in the first place,” Varkon growled, “just making sure I’m still getting my due… and you still haven’t told me what you’re bounty is.” “Thought it wouldn’t matter. After all, you just care about being paid…” “What is the bounty?” “I’ll tell you… it’s not going to be easy, not for a price like 100,000.” The being shrugged, gesturing to someone or something outside of Varkon’s field of view. Varkon thrashed his arm a little more, trying once more to break free, but when he looked back all he earned was an amused blink: “You’ve ever heard of the ‘Lykos?” Varkon tilted his head to one side. “What is a Lykos?” He asked. ---- Chapter 1 Varkon hated the sea. Who would in their right minds want to travel on it? More water splashed into his boat, his anxious hands springing to action to collect the water in the rusted metal bucket before he tossed the water back over the side. A rolling wave of water broke across the hull of the wooden boat, splashing his kanohi with the salt water. He spat out the water. He hated the sea. Varkon made a mental note that he would kill the being after he got his pay. He was promised it would only be a few days travel. He had been on the ocean for a month now. His boat ever made travel around the northern island chains, it never went beyond that. Not because he was inexperienced, as far as he was aware, he was the most experienced assassin. Not to mention, why would he need to get any different boat? They all travel the same anyways. The being asked if he could read the stars. How was that related to boating? Varkon scoffed to himself. He’d get to this little whatever-the-hell-it-was-called island. Someday. There was a flashing light in the distance, circling around. Light didn’t do that. Light didn’t do that! Varkon immediately snapped to attention, yanking at the tiller as the rudder squeaked toward the direction he was taking. The Toa looked up at the sail that stood crookedly, realising that it would potentially give away his position. He didn’t know how to set it down, he hadn’t ever needed to approach stealthily to an island before. Swearing under his breath, Varkon pulled uselessly at the sail. It erupted in flames. The boat was on fire. “They’re shooting at me!” Varkon exclaimed to no one. He looked around frantically, taking his rifle in his arms before he stared at the great distance that separated him from where his objective was. Varkon drew in a deep breath, praying to Mata Nui and leapt into the silvery water. ---- Varkon clawed at the sand under his hands. O, he really was going to kill that being now. This stupid job cost him his only boat, and now he was stranded on one of the many islands that he was told no being ever wanted to set foot. But he was not just any being, he was the best assassin in the universe. He was going to kill whatever-his-name-was and steal a boat. Apparently these things had some of the best war technology on the world, or so the being said… but Varkon wasn’t going to trust the being anymore. Not after he lied about how long it would take to get here! And that’s just beside trapping his arm. Varkon now vomited out salt water onto the black shoreline, cursing with every gag the name of the being that dragged him out to this Mata Nui forsaken place. The Toa of Fire stood upright as best as he could, looking with groggy vision at the island… why were the trees glowing? And made of metal? And who was-- Something was walking up to him. Had he been seen? Varkon seized his weapon and searched around desperately: a rock that could likely hide him. The dazed Toa of Fire set off for it, keeling over and vomiting once more, finally ridding his lungs of the burning salt water as he fell kanohi-first onto the gravel. Varkon cried out in sharp pain, curling up into a ball as he held his sniper tightly in his hands. He needed to be ready to shoot at a moments notice, any good sniper knew that-- The footsteps got closer. His heartlight flickered faster, the crunching gravel setting a terrified state echoing in his empty head. Varkon swore he could hear a voice, something that drained confidence… He was an assassin! What had he to fear? “Any idea why this grogoka’alarts is hiding behind a rock?” The voice sighed. What in Mata Nui’s name was a grogoka’alarts? Varkon drew in a confident breath, it was evident he hadn’t been sighted. But he needed to start moving, and he needed to move now. Years of training kicked into action, as he crawled across the gravelly sand, rifle tight against his chest. It wasn’t the fastest mode, but it was the stealthiest. He turned his head back, confused that he didn’t hear the creatures walking away… They were standing there. Staring at him. Varkon stopped immediately. Perhaps they could only see if he was moving? He knew that was common across a lot of species… then again he was never caught if he didn’t do anything at all. Varkon waited. “Perhaps it is stranded?” A second voice asked. “Stranded? Possibly… tell us, nuparavko, are you stranded?” The first asked. Slowly Varkon tried to crawl away. “Do we just… ignore it?” “I do not know, brother… is it worth the Major Domo’s time?” Varkon continued to crawl along, ignoring the two creatures. Obviously they weren’t talking about him, since they didn’t refer to him as ‘Toa’ or ‘assassin,’ which is what he was. They were using stupid words… evidently they weren’t educated. The steps got closer, quickly circling around them as they stood… they were… they were pretty tall and pretty strong. But Varkon knew that looks could be deceiving, but he didn’t understand how they saw him. He stood still, testing his theory that they could only detect movement. Perhaps if he didn’t move a centimetre, he would be alright. “Nuparavko?” One of the creatures asked, before it looked toward its companion: “Perhaps it has damage in the head, hit something on its way through the waves from the burning ship.” Burning ship? “Ah, damnit… they saw that…” Varkon muttered under his breath. “Of course we saw that, it was like torch in the black!” The second creature laughed, “It is… very, very visible.” “You shot me, though!” Varkon cried in protest. Both creatures immediately looked toward each other in confusion, as if they were trying to play it as if they didn’t know what he was talking about. They then broke out in laughter, a mocking and relentlessly cruel laughter, as one reached down with an open hand toward the Toa of Fire. Varkon slapped it away, only earning a confused expression in response. “You flatter us!” The creature laughed, “But no… we did not shoot you.” “Did you set your own boat on fire, meleg’kijov?” The second asked in sincerity, “It just… boomed?” “Who are you talking to?” Varkon demanded. The two creatures looked at each other, puzzled once more. “You?” They asked in unison, “Are your audio receptors broken, meleg’kijov?” “That’s not my name!” Varkon screamed in protest. “We… know?” The second creature shrugged, “But… you do not. Brother, this is a special case. Perhaps on next shipment out, we send this thing--” “I am a Toa!” “We have visual receptors, yes.” “I am not a thing!” Varkon growled. “Brother,” the first creature sighed, “let us just get it to shelter… it requires help.” “You require help!” Varkon roared. The Toa of Fire leapt to his feet, stumbled for a bit, and swung his fist for the closest creature that stood by. Varkon knew he was just as talented in hand-to-hand combat as he was in riflemanship, having disarmed and killed several thousand targets on his own with just his hands. He prided himself on the idea that he didn’t even need his Toa or kanohi powers to inflict pains and death, because he knew he was just that good. After all, when stealth fails, a louder approach was the only other option-- He wasn’t hitting anything. His fists made impact with nothing. Perhaps the creature stepped out of the way? Varkon tried to move his head to look up, but he couldn’t. It was as if it was being held in place by something… his visual receptors turned up, focusing on the beast that was holding all of Varkon’s fury back with a simple extended arm. The creature no longer looked amused, it just looked dreadfully bored and annoyed. But it underestimated him, and that would be its downfall! Varkon tried to raise his sniper back up to fire into the exposed stomach of the creature, using only one hand as he pulled the trigger and-- “Ow!” Varkon cried as the knockback for the weapon threw his shoulder out of place, as the weapon was knocked out of his possession. He… admittedly never fired the weapon before, and he didn’t even know that it would have any form of recoil considering how strong he was. “By the Void,” the second creature sighed, “this cannot be real!” “Is a practical joke, yes?” The first asked, looking squarely at Varkon, “And yes, I talk to you!” “What would you do if I said ‘no?” Varkon asked innocently, “Just a hypothetical!” “Just…” The first groaned, “why are you come here? What are you doing?” “I’m here to kill someone called ‘Pole mist us?” Varkon asked more than answered, “He is some dictator! Someone who is very evil!” The two creatures looked at each other. And they laughed. Again. “S-stop laughing!” Varkon demanded. “You joke!” The creatures continued to laugh, “You are here to kill Polemistis? Grand evil dictator? You are our hero! Miv kto-paravii dvy! Hero of the Lykos!” Varkon blinked. “Y-yes!” Varkon laughed uncomfortably, “Just show me where he is, and I will save you both!” “Yes, yes!” The first shook his head in excitement, “We show you now! Get your gun, you save our people!” Varkon laughed to himself. It was almost too easy for him. ---- Chapter 2 It was dark with few flickering lime-coloured lights. Varkon looked around anxiously to the number of Lykos with rifles increased. They looked something closer to grenade launchers with barrels of longrifles, fuming with a hot vapor that sometimes breathed against the Toa of FIre’s armour… it was really, really hot. Varkon could’ve sworn he was was standing at the gates of Karzahni, but he couldn’t show fear. Could the Lykos smell fear? Nonsense! He wasn’t afraid. Was he? Eventually the three reached a great set of doors, which seemed to be wounded by time if not anything else. The shiny surface was blemished with rust and contortions, a few burns inflicted by what Varkon was guessing was the Lykoii’s own weapons. So the being was right, the Lykos really didn’t like their leader. He turned his head toward one side in particular, seeing one of the Lykos click their mandibles at him. “Why hello to you too,” Varkon responded, guessing it was a greeting. The Lykos grunted in response, turning toward the other two that were escorting him to assassinate Pole-mist-whoever. It clicked and spoke in a strange foreign language, something that Varkon didn’t think was possible. He figured they were talking with each other, but how could he know they weren’t insulting him? Plotting behind his back to steal the widgets he was promised? Perhaps he would have to kill all of them and steal a boat to get back to collect his wage. Eventually the Lykos finished talking, as the one standing by the door waved his hand over a holographic projection that suddenly appeared. Varkon didn’t understand the symbols that appeared, but… didn’t everyone use Matoran. The rough-looking Lykos waved his hand as the doors slowly sprung to life and turned, pulling apart before it led into a rather strange interior. It was a hexagonal room that clearly was only fit to serve six beings at a time, yet was somehow crowded with a grand throne that was flanked with two guards. The ceiling appeared to be raised higher than it should’ve been, as fluttering banners and clothes of many different colours were carefully fixed and stretched along the room. Varkon stared at the Lykos who sat in the centre of the room, who lazily fiddled with a metal dodecahedron. This Lykos on the throne wore an interesting silver armour that looked more intricate and royal than what the other Lykos wore, swathed with purple cloths that were touched with golden leaves. It looked like perfect royalty, Varkon considering the expensive attire to be nothing more than a play on the part of the Lykos to pretend he carried with him authority. The Toa of Fire smiled to himself, picturing only 100,000 widgets sitting on a throne he might as well claim for himself. The two Lykos that flanked him dropped to their knees, pretending to bow before their king who was yet to even give Varkon a moments consideration… perhaps he was trying to hide his dismay, likely knowing Varkon from his legendary exploits and operations. He stood in silence, awkwardly, before one of the Lykos nudged him: “Speak!” “O-oh, me?” Varkon stuttered, “Are you Pole-mist-us?” The Lykos that sat atop the incredible throne didn’t move his head, keeping his focus on the strange metal shape. He wasn’t responding. “Pole-mist-whoever,” Varkon spoke, “you have working audio receptors?” “For such a tiny thing, you have an awful mouth.” The Lykos finally responded, “I would typically find your speech hilarious, trespasser…” “Funny?! And who are you calling tiny?!” “You.” Polemistis replied flatly, catching Varkon off guard, “Now, I warn you I tire of this… and we have hardly spoken but for thirty seconds.” “You know why I’m here, don’t you?” “Cannot say I do, tiny thing.” “I’m not tiny!” “Your stature says otherwise,” Polemistis stressed, “but with how unfamiliar you seem with simple reality, it would seem to me to be pointless to point out. Unlearned in the history of your own people, and how they feared mine.” “I have nothing to fear from some stupid brute!” Varkon challenged. Polemistis laughed. Varkon hated laughing. “Tell me, you thought you would waltz in here with your pathetic excuse for a rifle and blow my head off?” Polemistis demanded, “Many have tried before, and all have failed.” “Yeah, but they’re also not me!” “They were far more competent than you ever were. So I will take your pitiful attempt at bravery, as evidence of your stupidity.” “I’m not--” “Stop. Yelling.” Polemistis shook his head, staring directly into Varkon’s visual receptors. The Toa of Fire froze, suddenly starting to realise how big Polemistis actually was. And in that creature’s receptors he saw something that struck him to the very core: this being knew how to fight. And kill. Something Varkon had scarcely done, and even then that was a lie. He hadn’t. And that was something he was never going to admit. “Truly pathetic.” Polemistis reclined in his seat, setting the dodecahedron down by his side. “And here I thought I would be brought something with a child’s grasp of decency. Rahi, I think is your people’s terms for the sort of animal you are.” Varkon didn’t dare respond. “That is what you are, though. A ‘Rahi.’ Though unfortunately, you are nothing better than a Dikapi parading in the skeleton of a Visorak. A harmless Rahi running around, pretending to have fangs. Even now, you still refuse to do what others so easily could do. Why, I wonder?” Varkon stood silently. “Answer me.” Polemistis hissed. “Because I thought I could be like the others.” “Ah…” Polemistis laughed, “because you thought. Did you even bother? No, I know you did not. But fortunately for you, I can give you a way to prove to to the entire world you are worthy of a badge of recognition. I can offer you something greater than money that you would hardly have purpose for.” “And what’s that?” Varkon looked up to the beast. Polemistis gestured towards one of the other creatures that stood in attendance, which immediately responded by opening a hatchway that Varkon hadn’t expected. Now that he looked at the room, it seemed as if every wall could potentially be a door to some other place. The wall slid open, and out stepped a being that was familiar to the Toa of Fire. He didn’t recognise how it was at first, but at second glance he quickly realised who just stepped into the throneroom. “N-no.” Varkon stuttered. It was a Toa. A Toa with white and orange armour, wearing a great Miru. Thode. In that kanohi were eyes that glowed with such a terrifying power that Varkon romanticized he had. Ever since he heard the stories, he wanted to live and become someone as great and notable as this being. “He arrived only today.” Polemistis said, “Convenient. Both of you are after my head, but unfortunately I cannot allow the both of you to compete for that “honour.” So I propose something that should incentivise and prepare the both of you. You fight each other, and the winner takes the right to challenge me in a contest of life.” “That’s insane--” Varkon tried to cry. “Deal.” Thode simply replied, glaring at Varkon. Varkon gulped. ---- Chapter 3 Varkon anxiously writhed his hands together. The circular walls of the pit where the beasts led him to were painted with colours that definitely were signs of countless victories and defeats. The cutting sand underneath his boot was splattered with colours that the Toa of Fire would rather leave unidentified. Overhead were banners that brandished swords and shields, and a series of rahi he couldn’t recognise. Beyond the series of colours was the rising morning sun, and in front of that celestial body was his ‘opponent.’ Varkon could hardly make out the white armoured figure from the imposing black shadow that was cast by the new day’s sun, uncertain of the preparations that Thode was making. The Toa of Fire shrugged the weight of his bolt-casting rifle, the awkward weight of the weapon he was unfamiliar with shifting carelessly in his clumsy hands. He turned his head to look upwards to where Polemistis had moved his throne, seeing the smug rahi rest his mandibles on his fist. Varkon could tell that this Lykos could care less, and was actually quite bored with the prospect of watching the two Toa fight for the ‘honour of killing him.’ Varkon just needed to convince Thode to kill Polemistis with him, and then he could cut the bounty eighty-twenty. The eighty going to him, as it was his contract. Mata Nui knew he couldn’t actually kill Thode, but perhaps his smooth talking and sly lips would convince the notorious Toa of Plasma to kill Polemisits. The Lykos did use plasma weapons, that much he remembered from the being’s boring lecture. Thode could just use his Toa powers and blow up the weapons. It was that simple, wasn’t it? “Stand proud, ‘warriors,” Polemistis scoffed, “you have been allowed your weapons. I recommend you use them wisely. May you find your false god’s favour.” Wait… it could just start like that? Varkon felt his heartlight flicker faster, as he sighted Thode approach… the Toa of Plasma was just walking up to him. The weapon wasn’t even raised. It was almost too casual, too obvious. Perhaps Thode had the same idea that he had? Varkon steeled his confidence in this, smiling as best he could. The Toa of Fire knew his winning personality would garner the alliance he needed from the Toa of Plasma. “You’re that confident?” Varkon puffed out his chest. “I actually am.” Thode rolled his optical sensors, “Look, I think we both know where this is going to go so I am going to help you--” “I was thinking the same thing!” Varkon laughed uncomfortably, “So, eighty-twenty?” “What--” “Nevermind that, I’ll explain. Just, y’know, use those plasma powers and…” “And what?” “Blow up their plasma weapons? You can kill them all, just like that. Just like me--” “You can’t be serious,” Thode interrupted the babbling Toa of Fire, “I’m going to be kind and break the bad news. I just can’t do that with Lykos technology, it needs to be cracked if I’m going to target and detonate their pinch reactors.” “Like, break their armour?” “Hey, shut up. Not that simple--” “I can break his armour, you just get your powers ready. Should be over in a wink.” Varkon lifted his rifle up, blatantly pointing it at Polemistis as the two guards that flanked the rahi king didn’t even flinch. He pulled the trigger, the weapon bobbing up and slamming uncomfortably into his shoulder. He managed to hold on to the rifle this time, knowing for a certainty that his round would hit. It was sort of on target. But right before it was going to strike Polemistis’s armour, it just stopped and floated effortlessly in the air. Varkon felt his jaw drop as he watched in bewilderment as the rahi lazily plucked the projectile out of the air with it’s armoured claws. Polemistis played with the still burning-hot round, seemingly unphased with the thing that was supposed to kill him. What was this sorcery? Before Varkon could form a conclusion, he felt something collide with the back of his head. Hard. It immediately knocked him to his feet, sending violent surges of pain down his central support spine. He felt his vision blur, before something stomped on the back of his throat. Varkon struggled to pull in a new and desperately needed breath, before this thing muttered into his audio sensors: “You really are stupid, aren’t you? Look, I get you’re new. So I’m going to share something with you: this job? It is nothing but respect. If you’re going to act like a hotshot, you better have that reputation, which you don’t have. And if you continue, you’ll never have. Got it?” Varkon managed to only strangle out a response. “Give me a reason to spare you the pain. To spare your life. Do you understand me?” Varkon strangled. “Nod your head.” Thode groaned. Varkon complied. Immediately the pressure released, allowing Varkon to steal another breath of precious life before he-- … ---- Varkon woke up with a throbbing headache. It felt as if his kanohi was cracked, as he sluggishly felt the features. No, it was still intact. The Toa of Fire struggled to lift himself up to a sitting position, glancing around dazed. It wasn’t that wicked rahi-infested island, it was somewhere else. What did he have to drink last night? Not enough, probably. The Toa of Fire pushed himself out of the meagerly put together cot he had laid on for who knows how long, looking around the interior… of not his room? He didn’t know where he was, but with an unconquerable determination he set his feet back down on the stone floor and stumbled over to the window. As soon as Varkon looked out, he realised it wasn’t a dream. He was still there. Trapped. “W-what…” Varkon gulped, immediately taking off for the door that stood on the other end of the small room he was kept in. It wouldn’t budge, despite how much he threw himself against it. Then the door swung towards him, knocking him onto his back as terror filled his eyes. “Friend!” The beast from the beach roared with some sort of joy, “You breathe! Truly a relief, I worried!” “G-get away from me, rahi!” Varkon spat. “Is this way to greet me?” The beast laughed, “No… why did you try to push on a pull door? I saw it was struggle, thought I could help--” “I need to get out of here--” “Is all arranged! We wait for vessel to come. It will take you to place your people call the ‘Southern Continent.” “You are lying!” Varkon cried. “My people are many things, liars is not one of them.” The beast clicked its mandibles, “Besides, you are lucky other grogoka’alarts did not send you screaming to the Void. It decided mercy, strange for creatures that kill, I am yet to understand--” “This has to be a cruel joke! A joke! This isn’t happening.” “If joke, I am not laughing. Besides, grogoka’alarts, we give you second chance. Perhaps you can learn, do better, become better and then try to kill the Major Domo. Perhaps he will entertain it, you prove to be good and entertaining--” “I’m not a clown!” Varkon fumed. The beast blinked a few times, before relenting and shrugging. It admitted defeat as it turned on its heel and headed to leave through the door. Varkon watched it suspiciously, before it disappeared through the doorway once more. The door closed once more, leaving Varkon alone and still laying on his back on the floor. He rested his head down on the stone below, staring at the tarp above him. And he sat there in complacency. Blinking now and again, to test if this was really what he was seeing. He had been humiliated, bested. That simply couldn’t be real. It wasn’t possible. No, he knew he was better. Better than all of them. It wasn’t worth his time to do something as unworthy as this. He would return to that being and take his share that he deserved, and move on. Get a new boat. Definitely a new rifle. But for now, he needed to learn something. To make something up, to imitate… no, to be better than what he saw back in that clustered and rigged ring. What Thode said, wasn’t his advice. It was actually what Varkon said. “Make me an offer I can't refuse, and I might just spare your miserable life.” Yeah. That would work.